Critics were uniformly and understandably lyrical in their praise of Bersarin Quartett’s self-titled debut album four years ago. Thomas Bücker´s quality craftsmanship deserves the admiration. After he turned it into a trio to tour, the Quartett returned to the studio as the solo act it is to record its sophomore effort.
We have been advised to hear the twelve pieces as soundtracks to imaginary films, and the album does indeed open with and maintain a cinematic grandeur, gliding in from far above on what I personally imagine as an autumn landscape, dusted with first snow. A simple, solo piano gently treated is particularly attractive and the surging and soughing of most of the tracks refracts and reiterates that emotionally amplified mood. The music is pretty and well-composed, lovely to hear, though undistracting, which again, may be the point. His particularly dab hand at sampling and layering strings gives the album warmth, but while his arrangements strive for transcendence and often graze it, they can just as often rub shoulders with kitsch.
II is a handsome work, but it is a veneer – the thin slice peeled from the thick tree trunk that shows off the burled grain of its growth rings, but doesn´t have the sap of solid timber. It does feel glorious to run your hand over as you pass. What remains resonant in the work on II is the confidence with which Bücker exercises his craft, which allows his pieces to advance like wandering shade.
Stephen Fruitman
